


Boar's Prey

by BoyoBoyItsRegret



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Digestion, Fatal Vore, M/M, Vore, felix dies im warning you, mentions of Sylvain and Ingrid, mild horny, mild nsfw in chapter 2, minor mentions of dimitri/all his friends, really the dimitri/felix thing is hardly that but w/e, unwilling vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-12-17 05:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21048782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoyoBoyItsRegret/pseuds/BoyoBoyItsRegret
Summary: Dimitri has regained his sanity, but that's not to say he didn't gain something else alongside it--an overwhelming urge to protect his friends. But how exactly can he keep them all safe when they're always rushing out onto the battlefield?Felix is about to learn his rather unexpected method. It's Not PleasantTM.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't judge me I haven't written anything in like a month and then it just ended up being this I'm just as disappointed in myself

If there was one thing he’d never expected to happen to him, it was to be eaten alive. The possibility of course was present, what with the presence of enormous Demonic Beasts popping up in every forest and mountainside on the continent. Their jaws would spell certain doom for anyone who got too close. From the moment he’d learned of their existence he’d developed the thought that, minute as it was, there was a possibility that one day he could be eaten alive and digested away in the stomach of a monster.

The monster which ate him, however, was much different from the toothy mummy-like creatures employed by the empire; it was no giant hawk or rampant wolf looking for a quick snack. From all outside appearances it was the last creature which should have eaten him, even if its mind was a match to the bloodthirstiness of those in the wild. He’d expected it to attack him, to snap at him for his tongue, to come after him with a vengeance to kill.

He’d never, however, expected Dimitri to swallow him whole. His entire upper body was trapped in the prince’s esophagus, his head having just popped into his stomach. Felix screamed again, wriggling his torso and kicking his legs wildly to no avail. Only moments before he had been training, ignoring the boar prince lurking in the shadows. If he’d come close, he would have raised his sword and forced him off. 

That’s what he’d thought. He’d thought himself strong enough to fight off that monster. Instead his sword had glanced off his armor and the blade was seized in a black gauntlet, snapped into pieces a moment later. When he’d tried to punch Dimitri had grabbed his fists, staring at them with a sort of curiosity, almost as if he didn’t recognize Felix or what he was trying to do. Then he’d shoved them both in his mouth, a feat Felix would never had thought possible, and swallowed them down.

It had only gotten worse for Felix from there. The muscles in Dimitri’s esophagus were as strong as the rest of him. Trying to free himself was like trying to pry apart a boulder from a tiny crack. He’d screamed, called for help, but no one else was around--a consequence of late night training. And Dimitri was swift in his feasting. He’d had Felix’s head in his mouth and throat before he could cause much noise, and from there his body had done a perfect job of muffling his cries. 

Mere seconds before Felix had felt crushed by the pressure of Dimitri’s body around him, of the esophagus forcing him to be as small as he could be, of the lungs beside him still taking in air, the heart swiftly beating in his ears, the rib cage keeping them all together. His fists had entered the stomach, and his head popped in moments later. There was so little space in the chamber, even when he tried to stretch it outwards with his hands, and he knew the problem would only worsen as Dimitri swallowed again. 

He was in up to his hips. He bent his arms to let his elbows stretch the walls as his chest began to squeeze in, but it only got in up to the collarbone. Dimitri had stopped his gluttony for just a moment for reasons Felix didn’t quite know. His face rose up from the slimy walls, strands of blue hair sticking to his forehead as he instinctively and uselessly looked up, trying to get a read on Dimitri. Above him the heart pounded; around him the walls rubbed slime onto his face. 

He felt Dimitri’s hands on his legs, running up and down them, as if trying to pull them off. He responded by kicking more aggressively, even if it meant he had to shove his face into one of the walls. The hands relented for a moment, and another gulp sent the rest of his chest in. Now only his calves hung out of Dimitri’s mouth, the rest of him trapped in a tight, slimy prison. 

The hands returned if only to pull off his boots. While his coat wasn’t worth taking off, his shoes apparently were. Felix was laid on his back, his waist and legs still trapped in the esophagus above him, the sphincter hugging his hips tightly. Another swallow and it let go, sending more of him plopping into the stomach, leaving only his feet in Dimitri’s mouth.

Peristalsis pulled them out of there in no time. He felt only light swallows from Dimitri, and the faintest of touches on his throat as what was left of him was pulled deeper. Seemed the boar liked the feel of a live creature in his gullet, and was almost reluctant to quicken its descent. Even so, when his feet slipped past Dimitri’s collarbone he felt hands rubbing at him, pressing the armor plate harder against him.

Had Felix the space and ability to struggle, to punch and kick and fight as vehemently for his life as he wanted to, he would’ve. But the muscles in Dimitri’s stomach were vicious. The moment his feet dropped in they seized him, squeezing him so tightly he gasped. Every inch of space was removed, every inch of his body hugged by a tight wall. The only air pocket left was at the top, by the sphincter, and Felix had to wriggle for his life to get his head up to it. He gasped in the thin air, knowing it wouldn’t last him long. 

Adding to the tightness of the stomach was Dimitri’s armor. He’d been wearing it while he approached Felix, had been wearing it while he swallowed him. And now he was in Dimitri’s stomach, locked behind walls of steel and flesh. Even as large as he was, the bulge he doubtlessly formed on Dimitri’s body would only manifest as a slight strain on his armor. He imagined the metal plates looking forced out over the skin, pressed tightly against it, but still doing their job of keeping it all in, not conforming to the person-shaped gut they confined. They’d contribute to keeping Felix in place and in keeping him hidden. 

He wriggled uselessly, knowing no one could see it. Then he screamed, cried for help again. He couldn’t do it long, for his air ran out swiftly, and what more he could suck in was thinner than before. He began to feel dizzy mere moments after being so tightly confined. 

Dimitri prodded him from the outside, though it could have just been him resting a hand on his armor. He couldn’t tell for sure; it simply felt like the plate was pressing harder against him. He wanted to punch back, to bruise the skin and make Dimitri feel some kind of pain before he went out, being digested alive in this hellish organic prison, and the fact that he couldn’t even struggle properly ignited a rage within him. 

“DAMN YOU BOAR!” He shrieked, losing even more air and immediately starting to gasp. “I...always...knew...this was...your true...nature! You...cannibal…!”

And then he could find no more air to fill his lungs. Felix gasped, struggled desperately in those last moments, forcing the muscles of Dimitri’s stomach to hug him even harder as adrenaline filled his veins. He stretched the walls, managed to change his position, kicked as hard as he could upwards, gave a punch to what he hoped was Dimitri’s vitals. 

A flinch was all he got from the boar. The walls grew tighter, and he was aware of fluids suddenly pouring onto his head. It was getting dark, so much darker than just what Dimitri’s stomach was. The tingling they produced kept him grounded for just a moment, preventing him from passing out for a few seconds longer as they washed over his skin, hot and sticky. 

And then they poured over his eyes and he was forced to shut them, taking consciousness with them. Around his body, now upside down inside of Dimitri, the walls began to knead and secrete acids, massaging the fluid into flesh and cloth as the first stages of digestion began. 

\--------

The struggles within him began to slowly ebb, but even as they did Dimitri knew it would be a while before Felix passed. He could still feel Felix’s body struggling to breathe in there, his heart still pounding wildly in fear as everything left in him tried to escape death. Not that it would do him any good. Many a soldier had been in his gut before, and no amount of begging or struggling had ever seen any of them leave. 

He was leaned against a pillar, focusing on letting the weight Felix added to him settle. If he tried to walk immediately while his prey was still struggling, he could lose his balance, and he didn’t fancy his prey nearly knocking his spine out of place. Gradually his meal ceased its struggles, and gradually he lifted himself from the stone. 

A belch escaped him as he did so. The last of Felix’s air, carrying the last of his screams with him. Dimitri hadn’t heard whatever he’d said, muffled by flesh and armor. It tended to be that way with most prey. Their final words were lost to his gut, heard only by his innards. Such was their fate. 

His hands instinctively moved to his belly, even if it was mostly obscured behind his armor. The stretch was clear, the plate having been pushed outwards by Felix’s presence. It wasn’t large enough to reveal just what he’d eaten, but it was uncomfortable, and he’d like to take it off as soon as possible. Using his spear as an aid, he headed for the exit. 

As he walked his belly bounced. Had it been free of armor it would have swayed with his movements, but trapped within his armor the contents within him could only shake up and down. It made him belch a bit more as tiny air pockets were forced up, and though it was minute he could already feel a bit of a slosh in his gut. He’d been hungry all day, and his body was so ready for its meal. Perhaps a bit too ready, he thought as another belch alarmed a guard he’d just passed. At this rate, Felix would be nothing but slosh in just a few hours. 

Upon return to his old dorm he closed and locked the door. It was never pleasant to have anyone walk in on him while he was digesting, especially since it meant he’d usually have to silence them. No one would follow a king who took pleasure in adding his enemies to his own body. It hadn’t happened with anyone he valued yet, but one of the maids had unfortunately gone missing because she’d entered the wrong room at the wrong time. He still remembered her screams as she splashed into the remnants of an Imperial soldier in the process of being squeezed lower in him.

He unbuckled his chestplate and pulled it off, freeing his stomach. The black material of his shirt had ridden up on it, saving it from tearing as his gut fell forth. It hung out in the perfect shape of a sleeping person, their head pressed against the outer wall. With one hand he reached out to rub it, ghosting over the shape of Felix’s head. No reaction. 

Then, he took to undoing his gauntlets. Every bit of metal on his upper body could go for now. His lower body...well, he’d have a bit of trouble bending over, so he’d save it for later. He’d relax as he was for now and let himself fall back onto his bed, lying back on his cloak and his fluffy furs. His meal inside sloshed at the movement, the imprint of Felix’s head vanishing as he did so. 

Now that his gut was free, there was a bit more air in there. Felix’s breathing had gone slow, but it was still there. He was intact, just unconscious, and it was a mercy on the Goddess’s behalf that he was. Digestion was a slow and painful death, and he idly wondered why the Goddess let it be--then again, she let him eat people, an ability he’d inherited with his strength under the presumed assumption of feeding it. At least in the end she was merciful enough to take their mind before their body. 

His hand wandered to his gut, rubbing over the soft pale skin. They touched down upon the solid form of Felix beneath it, a very real emblem reminding him of his deed. In a few hours his friend would be soup within him, softening his gut and leaving his belly with a small gift of extra fat that he’d work off in the next few battles. But better than that…

His hand wandered up to his pecs, soft and full from plenty of past meals. Felix would make a lovely addition to both of them, and if he was lucky, his ass as well. It gave him a small pride to admire the curves he’d gained since he’d really started using his ability, taking advantage of the bodies he piled up in the war. But why wear the soldiers when he could wear his friends? He’d only just regained his sanity, but not everything that he regained was entirely pure. His friends were fighting for him, at risk of dying every day, and the thought of them losing their lives to Edelgard or her soldiers filled him with such rage. He couldn’t bear the thought, but he couldn’t stop them from fighting--so what should he do?

A long gurgle from his stomach answered him. When Felix would be added upon him, he’d have one less friend to have to worry about. After all, he’d be right next to his heart, a part of him until the end of his days. As his stomach began to slosh and gurgle, he let out a yawn. Exhaustion was an expected part of digesting so large a meal, but he hated to leave Felix alone for so long. He ran a hand over his belly, searching for Felix’s head, and gave it a pat when he found it. In just a few hours Felix would be with him, even if the temporary parting was causing him a little bit of doubt. He’d have to dispel it, or else he might not be able to repeat this with Ingrid and Sylvain. 

“I’ll be here when this is over,” he promised his groaning gut. Felix, though faintly, was still alive within him. “Don’t be afraid.”

He lowered his head, let himself rest on the dusty bed. One hand still rested on his gut, the other he slid under the pillow to prop himself up. He could feel digestion starting, feel Felix’s presence within him even more than before as his gut began to work on him and the groans intensified in their volume. But even their noise couldn’t prevent him from drifting off, his snores soon rising to rival his gut in their volume. 

\---------

Dimitri awoke to soft beams of sunlight dancing over his face. His one eye scrunched shut, entire body turning over to face away from them, and something in his gut shifted, which groaned in protest at his movement. Remembering the events of the previous night, Dimitri yawned and sat up just enough to get a good look at his gut. 

It had shrunk exponentially. What had once been the size of a person now appeared only as a soft food baby, and a small one at that. His body had been efficient in breaking down Felix, changing him into just a bit of fat on Dimitri’s abs. Disappointingly he couldn’t even feel Felix being absorbed into him; he’d slept too long and missed it all. He frowned and rubbed his gut, feeling the indigestible metal and singed cloth left behind clink and shift within. Then, his gaze dropped to his pecs. 

The change was minute, but it was there. They felt noticeably softer as he pressed a hand to one, squeezing it and closing his eyes. Felix was right there on him, next to his heart, and he could protect him much easier now. His friend might have been prickly for so long in his life, but at least now he had evened out into soft flesh. 

He stood and stretched before bending over and placing both hands upon his stomach. The worst part of the process was removing the indigestibles, which were always present even with how efficient his stomach was. He breathed in, braced himself, and pressed hard and fast into his gut. 

Almost immediately he felt them lurch up. In just a second he had vomited the remnants onto the floor, spotting singed blue fabric connected to a collar made of fluffy white fur. Alongside them were a few bits of metal, a hair-tie, several metal buttons. He gathered them into a wet pile and, after a few moments of contemplation, threw only the collar and buttons away. He’d keep the hair tie, as an extra remnant of Felix; besides, his hair was growing long, and he could use it.

Getting dressed was a bit harder than before, especially when he found his shirt didn’t fit his chest as well as it had the day before. Felix had certainly made his mark known. He managed to pull it on, and his breastplate thankfully still fit. Looking out the window, he spotted Sylvain and Ingrid walking towards the dining hall together. After they’d been added to his body, he wondered if his armor would still fit--his shirt certainly wouldn’t. 

But for now, it was a new day, and that problem could be solved he came to it. His stomach, empty now, growled in demand of his next meal, and he set out fully determined to sate it once more.


	2. Sylvain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri decides Sylvain lookin like a snacc now. Warning for mild nsfw

The fate of his childhood bestie was far from Sylvain’s mind when he awoke that morning. He’d seen Felix head out just the night before to the training grounds, and Sylvain had fallen asleep shortly after that. Without a girl to accompany him to bed there wasn’t much reason for him to stay up late, especially since the war meant an attack could happen at any hour. If he heard the alarm ringing he’d have to jump up and into action, and he didn’t fancy spending all night awake waiting for its call. 

As he awoke, he heard groaning through the wall, emitting from the room he knew Dimitri stayed in. For the longest time, their old dorms had laid empty, Dimitri’s perhaps longer than most. Instead, he’d insisted on sleeping in the walls of the cathedral, at least until the professor had broken through his walls. It’d only been what, a week? since he’d regained his sanity, and he had only really started to make his room more homely for the past three days. As far as Sylvain knew, this was the second time Dimitri slept in the space, and it was likely that his bed was suffering from disuse. 

He paid the sounds no mind and sat up, stretched his arms and rubbed the sand out of his eyes. The sun was just starting to rise, the pale light creeping through his glass window. With a hefty yawn Sylvain hopped out of bed, not bothering to make it, and took to dressing himself. As he tugged his night shirt off and pulled a fresh one on, he was sure he could hear something like gurgling through the wall, coming from Dimitri’s room. He paused for a moment and lifted his head to listen a little more intently. 

He was met with the sound of Dimitri snoring. Oh. Big guy must be tired. Leaving it at that, he changed into his usual attire. It wasn’t all he had, but his father hadn’t been too generous with him leaving to join the war effort, so it wasn’t like he had much choice in what to wear. These clothes he usually wore under his armor would be in need of washing soon; no doubt Ingrid would bother him about his appearance. 

It wasn’t like he intended to do any wooing today, anyways. The war had dampered everyone’s spirits, especially those of romance, and if he hadn’t had any luck on his best days, he wouldn’t have any luck today. He took to combing his hair in the mirror, sweeping it off to the side and letting it fluff up before calling it good. Then, his armor. Not that he enjoyed wearing the stuff all the time, and around the monastery he usually left his gauntlets off, but it was partially a necessity when the risk of attack was so high. 

Still, he could do without the constant weight on his back. He wouldn’t even look at the twitching lance in the corner, the one which had killed his brother and might one day attempt the same on him. He took it into battle not because he wanted to, but because it gave them an edge against an army much greater than their own. Despite that he still didn’t, and likely never would, feel comfortable wielding it. 

With the battlefield on his mind, he stepped out of his room after pulling on his boots. Dimitri was still snoring away, his door locked shut when Sylvain passed it, and Felix’s door was still open. Looks like he’d gotten the jump on him again and was probably back at the training grounds. All Felix did nowadays was train, though he supposed it wasn’t too different from what his friend was like five years ago. Still, it was worrisome to Sylvain. Everyone has their way of coping, but Felix...it seemed like coping was all he did. 

He idly hoped he’d see him at breakfast as he headed down the stairs to the ground floor. The monastery had already awoken, and he could see the greenhouse keeper already tending to the flowers outside along Dedue. Ashe was fishing in the pond, a dozen cats crowded around him in perfect loaf positions. At the bushes by the other side of the dorm hall, Sylvain could see a circle of children playing some kind of game. 

He stepped out into the morning sun, fighting off another yawn. There was plenty to do today. He’d eat breakfast, go check on if Felix was in the training grounds and tease him a bit, maybe spar. He didn’t exactly enjoy sparring or training, but if it was the only way to actually get Felix to pay attention to him, then he’d do it. After that he had stable duty and had to help with cleaning the dining hall. Then he planned to practice his magic a little, in secret. Not that he was particularly private about it, but he preferred not to have an audience witness his failures, especially now that he’d found a budding talent in it. 

He hadn’t made it more than ten steps before he heard Ingrid’s voice. “Out of bed at last, sleepyhead?” Her boots clacked on the cobblestone as she approached him from the greenhouse. 

“Hey, I was just getting in some beauty sleep,” he replied, turning to her. “I’m not late for breakfast, right?”

Ingrid put a hand on her hip. “You’ll be getting the last dredges of it. Here.” She held out her other hand, where a napkin was bundled around something. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you starving, so I saved you something.”

She opened her fist, allowing the napkin to spread out. It unrolled to reveal a sweet bun, filled with red jam. Not his favorite, but better than starving, and he wasn’t about to turn her down.

“Thanks, Ingrid. What would I do without you?” He gave her a teasing grin and accepted the bun, biting into its sweet flesh. Soft beneath his teeth, and so loaded with jam that it practically oozed onto his tongue. “Say, why don’t I treat you later as a proper thanks?”

“I think I’ll pass,” she said, shaking her head. “How about instead, you help me bathe my pegasus?”

Sylvain almost spat out his bun. “W-Wha? It’ll take the whole day just to catch it!”

Ingrid’s eyes turned pleading. “Which is exactly why I need help. In the last battle, an arrow embedded itself in her hackle, and she won’t let me get anywhere near it. Besides, she needs a good wash anyways. You’ll help me out, won’t you?”

He did his best not to groan. Chasing a pegasus around all day wasn’t what he’d intended, but it was for Ingrid…

“Alright,” he sighed at long last, but his smile quickly returned upon the sight of Ingrid’s face lighting up. “But let me get something else to eat first! I’ll need the energy.” 

Her expression changed to a sly smirk. “With all the running around you’re going to be doing? You better save your appetite for lunch, or you’ll be on the ground from cramps in minutes. Now come on!” She grabbed his hand and dragged him off before he could protest. 

Not that he minded holding her hand, of course. 

\-----------------------------------

Halfway through their chase, they’d run into Dimitri, who seemed curious about their activities, and Ingrid managed to rope him into joining their harrowing task. As it turned out, running around for hours on end on an empty stomach really gave you an appetite, because by the time they had finally caught Ingrid’s pegasus, Sylvain could hear Dimitri’s stomach practically roaring. He was hungry too, but since it was Dimitri who’d done the heavy lifting in wrestling (albeit gently) the pegasus, he figured he’d let him have the first choice in the dining hall. 

It was midday, the sun high in the sky and almost every individual hard at work. They entered the dining hall together, Ingrid staying back to comfort her pegasus, and ordered two cream and sagherts. With a few sweet words to the cook, Sylvain managed to get an extra portion for Dimitri, whose gaze seemed locked on him the entire time. A little strange, but he chalked it up to hunger. 

And that hunger certainly made itself known when their meals arrived. Before Sylvain had even taken a bite, Dimitri had dug into his, reminding them both that his bad habit of eating with his fingers was still present after its five years of use. Felix would’ve snapped at him and called him an animal, Ingrid would’ve frowned and looked away, but Sylvain? He couldn’t care less if the big guy decided that was his method today. He dug into his own alongside Dimitri, albeit with slower motions and much more control. 

“So, you have any plans for today?” He asked, cocking his head. Dimitri didn’t even look up from his plate. “Honestly I still haven’t thought of much outside of the daily ritual. Maybe head into town for a bit, and see if I can score a date? This war has been such a damper on romance, it’s a tragedy so many flowers are being left to wilt.”

Dimitri looked up, swallowing hard as he downed a mouthful of food. “You’re wasting your time. Many of those ‘flowers’ have already been claimed. It’d be wiser for you to focus on something important, like training.”

“Finding a partner is plenty important,” Sylvain argued. “You’re the soon to be king, so you’ll never have to worry about it, but as for me? I’ve gotta go with what I can.” Sylvain thought he heard his stomach growling--all that food and he was still hungry? A glance at his own revealed he wasn’t even halfway through it. “Damn, you’re fast. Give me a moment to catch up!”

As he worked to scarf down his own food, Dimitri’s eyes never left him. He tried not to let it bother him, but it felt like he was being sized up, observed like a rabbit through the lenses of a hawk.

Once they finished, they handed their dishes over to the kitchen staff and left the dining hall, stepping out into the warm sunshine of the afternoon. Sylvain yawned and stretched, feeling the rays on his face. With the hassle of the morning gone through, he could get down something else now--probably skirtchasing, or looking for Felix. Ah, right, Felix.

“Hey, Dimitri?” He began, turning to the prince following close behind him. “Have you seen Felix? He went off to the training grounds last night and I haven’t seen him since. I figured since you like to frequent them too, maybe you saw him dueling?”

Dimitri stifled a burp. “No. I haven’t seen him. There was no one when I arrived at the training grounds last night. We can check them, if you so wish.”

Sylvain frowned. “Sure. But that’s unusual, where else could Felix have gone? He’s always training late into the night.” And then a smirk crept across his face. “You don’t think he found a mistress, do you?”

Dimitri didn’t answer as they made their way to the training grounds. A few soldiers were hosting a tournament there, but Felix was nowhere to be seen. The blade he’d worn down over so many training sessions was propped up in the weapons rack, seemingly untouched. Sylvain’s frown deepened when they asked around and found no evidence of Felix having shown up all day. 

That was what he devoted the rest of the day too: searching for Felix. Dimitri accompanied him every step of the way, through the monastery and town and even the local wilderness. By nightfall, though, there was still nothing to indicate Felix’s presence in any of those places. Sylvain half-heartedly passed through the monastery gates, Dimitri at his side. The world just wasn’t the same without Felix. 

He let out a long exhale. “I don’t get it...where could he have gone? Why would he leave? It’s not like he’d head back to his father for a surprise visit, or stay out hunting this long--hell, Felix would have three bears on his back if he was out all day!” He shook his head, eyes locked on the stones before them. “He wouldn’t just abandon us, would he? You don’t think he…”

He was cut off by Dimitri’s hand reaching to tilt his chin up, to meet his icy blue eye. There was something in it which caught Sylvain off guard, something surprisingly longing. 

“He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you...the thought of it would kill him.” His breath rose as he spoke, mist in the cold night air. 

Sylvain tried to smile. “Yeah...you’re probably right. He’s probably in his room, sharpening his sword and calling us stupid for worrying about him so much.”

Dimitri’s hand caught on his own, gripping it tightly. “You’ll see Felix again...soon. Very soon. Today’s been hard on you...come back with me.”

At the offer Sylvain blinked. “Come back with you? To your room?

Dimitri nodded. “We’ll have each other, if no one else.”

If he wasn’t used to much more saucy offers, he might have blushed. “Well, alright then. I’m not one to turn down such generosity.” He squeezed Dimitri’s hand, following him back to their rooms.

Felix wasn’t in his own. The door was open, no one within. Sylvain only got a quick glance in, however, before Dimitri whisked him into his own, closing the door behind him. 

He wishes he had more to say when Dimitri threw off his cloak and began to remove his armor. He really hadn’t gotten this far in a long while. And this came so unexpectedly. Plus, he hadn’t really...done it, with a guy. Sure he’d thought of it, but not with Dimitri in mind--no, it was Felix who popped into his head. Well...first time for everything. It couldn’t be too different, he thought, but as Dimitri’s shirt stretched to fit his muscles, he had to wonder how sore he would be after it. 

He realized he’d been staring when Dimitri turned his head to look back at him, a kind of impatience in his expression. Sylvain quickly took to undoing his own armor, placing it against the wall. He didn’t remove any of his clothes, not yet. Dimitri hadn’t either. 

“So...are you serious?” He asked, testing the waters. Dimitri responded by closing the distance between them, pressing Sylvain against him, pressing his lips to his own. 

It shut him up, and he let himself be pulled back, onto Dimitri’s bed. It creaked beneath their combined weight as they sunk into it together, locked in embrace. Finally Sylvain pulled back for air, not once breaking eye contact with Dimitri.

Beneath him he could feel Dimitri’s covered chest rising and falling, and he ran a hand over it, feeling just how soft his pecs were. His traced a circle over one, and before he could stop himself he was working to pull Dimitri’s shirt off, exposing his muscular torso. His abs looked slightly softer, his pale skin riddled with scars, and above it all his pecs, soft and round enough to rival any girl Sylvain had been with before. Beneath it all...he heard the distinct growl of Dimitri’s stomach. 

“Hungry, aren’t you? He teased, tapping a few fingers on his breast. “Then I guess it falls to me to sate you.” And he got to work. 

————————---

For his first time with a guy, it wasn’t what he’d call bad. There had been a few awkward moments, but he’d made it through. Dimitri ended up lasting longer than him though, and now, exhausted from all his efforts, Sylvain laid beside him, a sweaty naked mess in tangled sheets. Dimitri’s presence behind him, while hardly bigger than himself, felt so solid, and he was amazed he’d managed the feat. They would both be sore tomorrow. 

Dimitri shifted beside him and he felt the bed creak as he stood. Where was he going after all that? Maybe to stretch? Or...maybe to the bathroom. Yeah, that’d make sense, he hadn’t exactly been...the cleanest. He didn’t turn over, not even when he heard Dimitri cross the room. 

But there was no sound of the door opening, no shuffle of clothing being hastily thrown on. He heard Dimitri settle nearby, and the blanket covering his legs was slowly moved up. Sylvain let out a soft noise as he tried to retreat back into it--only to be grabbed and pulled back. He blinked, lifted his head, glanced back at Dimitri, who was kneeling by the foot of the bed, staring curiously at his feet. 

He didn’t know if he could last another round, if that was what Dimitri was going for. “Dimitri...what are you doing?” He asked, folding his arms before him to prop himself up. 

Dimitri raised his head, his blue eye meeting both of Sylvan’s ginger. Wrapped his hand around Sylvain’s other calf. And before he could get another word in, Dimitri shoved them both into his mouth. 

The feat would be impressive if not for the terrifying implications accompanying it. Sylvain hadn’t even the time to jerk his legs back before Dimitri swallowed and his feet were shoved into his esophagus. He could feel the hot muscles squeezing him, pulling his feet deeper into their tight confines. 

The realization hadn’t properly hit him. Dimitri swallowed again and his calves began to enter his mouth. No way could Dimitri eat him, he was only an inch shorter than the prince! People couldn’t eat people! He tried to jerk his legs back uselessly, for Dimitri was gripping them tightly and he knew better than to try to break his iron-clad grip. But what else could he do?

“D-Dimitri what are you doing?” He managed, trying to keep his voice from trembling. “That’s--that’s real funny! Real cool! Now uh...stop it!”

Another swallow, and he was in up to his knees. He felt his feet touch down onto something squishy and soft, a warm liquid pooling over his toes. And at that point, it hit him: this was real, Dimitri was swallowing him, and if he didn’t do something, the rest of him would soon follow. 

As if he could sense it, Dimitri stood and shoved Sylvain’s legs into him, gulping him in to his bare upper thighs. His eye squeezed shut as he strained, throat bulging outward from the sudden influx. Saliva dripped out over his chin, small beads of the slimy stuff falling to the floor below. 

Sylvain could feel Dimitri’s tongue moving over his thighs, covering them in a sticky layer of spit. A dripping warmth spread over his hips as Dimitri tilted his head back and swallowed hard, sliding Sylvain in past his hips. Sylvain gasped at the sudden pressure, feeling himself growing hard as Dimitri’s esophagus massaged his dick. 

No...he couldn’t just give in because it felt good!

“DIMITRI!” He yelled, then gasped as another swallow sent him lower. “S-stop...nn! Stop it, I’m not fo--ah!”

His hands found their way to Dimitri’s face and weakly pressed against it, but by now it was too late: he was putty in Dimitri’s hands--er, mouth. His former friend reached up and carefully secured his hands behind his back, swallowing again to pull him lower. Sylvain could feel his body sliding downwards, the slick but tight flesh of Dimitri’s esophagus pressing at him from every angle as it stretched to accommodate him. His legs bent as they were squeezed into Dimitri’s stomach and he felt the sphincter pressing on his waist. He grit his teeth, breathing hard as it pulsed against him, and with one more swallow was sent over the edge. 

The rest of his journey into Dimitri was a blur. The world seemed blurry, farther away, as warmth began to envelope him from all sides. His head rolled back, his eyes focused on the gentle light of the moon streaming in through the window. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, warm breaths washing over it as he sank deeper into his friend. 

His world shifted, the light of the moon being replaced with the ceiling, and beneath him Dimitri gave one final, powerful swallow. His entire world sank along with him, the vision above replaced with the closing jaws of his former friend, the tongue giving him one last lick before the pink muscles of the throat closed him into darkness.

———————-

It was only with the aid of gravity that he managed to get Sylvain down. At long last, his head was finally in his throat, slowly travelling downwards in the process of peristalsis. Dimitri gave one more hard swallow, raising a hand to feel the bulge Sylvain made in him travel downwards. His chest strained from the sudden addition, which caught on his collarbone for a terrifying moment before it gave. 

He let out a long exhale as Sylvain plopped into his stomach, stretching the bulge he’d already made on him out. For a moment, it laid still as he rubbed a hand over it, feeling how solid Sylvain was beneath his soft flesh--and then it began to wriggle madly. Dimitri almost lost his balance from the sudden movements, catching himself last second on the wall behind him. 

A muffled voice cried out. “DIMITRI! LET ME OUT! Oh, goddess, Dimitri what the hell!”

All that movement caused his stomach to rumble, the air in it forcing its way into his throat and escaping in a loud belch. At the loss of air the struggles became more desperate. 

“DIMITRI! PLEASE! I’M NOT FOOD! WE’RE FRIENDS!”

He smiled at that last remark, rubbing his hands over his belly even as they were disrupted by every kick and punch Sylvain could manage. “Which is why I can’t let you out, Sylvain. I’ll never let any Imperial soldier hurt you again. You’re going to become a part of me, just like Felix did, and I’ll keep you both safe.”

The struggles stopped for a mere moment. “J-just. Like. Felix?” 

Dimitri nodded, not that Sylvain could see it. “You enjoyed playing with him a lot, didn’t you?” He cupped his pec, gave it a soft squeeze. “He enjoyed it, too.”

Sylvain screamed, the scream of a betrayed lover. “YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED FELIX! YOU KILLED HIM!” His voice cracked--he was crying. 

Dimitri belched again, and his stomach trembled as the muscles began to work. Sylvain was still struggling, using the tiny amount of air left with him to fight to the end. But even he couldn’t fight off the muscles closing around him, forcing him into a tight ball, pinning his arms against his sides and knees to his chest. 

He pressed out, as hard as he could, and was met with a press so crushing it made him cry out in pain. Hot tears stung his cheeks, mixing with the saliva and digestive acid coating them. The walls were rubbing him, kneading him, massaging hot juices into his skin. He felt their sting, rapidly turning into a burn. 

“F-Felix…” he hiccuped, hugging himself. “I’m so sorry, Felix…”

Dimitri pressed both hands to his gut and rubbed at where he knew Sylvain’s head to be. He made a much larger bulge than Felix, and was rather heavier, too. The gut before him he would struggle to carry from the training grounds to his dorm--how fortunate that Sylvain had been feeling as lonely as himself. And now, he had stopped struggling so wildly, reduced to a quietly whimpering ball within him. 

He lifted off the wall, used the momentum to catch himself on the foot of the bed. His gut pressed against it, causing Sylvain to wiggle at the sudden touch. Propping his gut up with one hand, Dimitri inched around the bed before throwing himself on the sheets. He rolled onto his back, his practical orb of a gut falling between his naked legs. 

Sylvain lurched within him, the burning fluid that had gathered at the bottom now splashing onto his face. He screamed at the pain, tried one last time to reason with his captor. 

“Dimitri, please!” He begged, trying to look up...wherever up was. “We’ve known each other since we were kids...I would never leave you...I’m sorry for what happened to you...but this...isn’t the answer...please...Dimitri…”

His pleas were met with a gentle pat and what sounded like a contented hum. “Dimitri...I’m not...food...please…”

The air was thin and he was getting dizzy. It was pitch black in here, but he swore he saw spots. His eyes fluttered shut as exhaustion overtook him. He saw Felix, yelling at him for something stupid he couldn’t understand, and smiled one last time. 

Dimitri burped one last time, much smaller than his previous belches. Sylvain had stopped begging, stopped crying, and he didn’t hear anything more from him. All he felt was the soft rise and fall of Sylvain’s chest within him; all he heard were the growing gurgles and groans of his gut. 

Soon, Sylvain would become one with him too. He squeezed his pec, smiled at the thought. “He’ll be with us soon, Felix. You won’t have to wait much longer.”

Yes...Felix missed Sylvain. And Sylvain would inevitably miss Ingrid. But for now, they would have to be sated with each other. He was, at least. 

Inevitable exhaustion was beginning to spread over him like a blanket. Digestion would start soon, and Sylvain would be broken down and squeezed deeper into him to be absorbed. He wanted to be awake for it, it felt like no other pleasure he’d known before. So he focused on kneading his gut, pressing into it with his palms, rubbing circles into the sides, stretching it this way and that. It was becoming sloshier, Sylvain’s form less coherent beneath him. But try as he might, his hands gradually slipped away from the flesh and his head drooped, single eye blinking shut as the process of digestion lulled him to sleep. 

———————

He awoke to gurgling. Dimitri blinked, groaned, turned his head to see that the window was dark--he’d awoken early. He rolled his head back, focused on the ceiling as his eye adjusted, listened to the gurgling of his stomach...his stomach…

Ah, right. He glanced down at the mound of flesh, taut like he was pregnant. Far too large to be mistaken for food; Sylvain was still breaking down inside of him. He shifted, raising one of his hands to pat it. It gave way beneath his fingers, and he gasped at the sudden feelings. 

He could feel every individual squeeze, every individual movement in his gut. It came from his muscles, his body just doing its job, but it felt just as pleasurable as when Sylvain had been struggling. Even now, reduced to thick chyme within him, he was still fighting, fighting not to be pushed deeper, to be absorbed. 

It felt wonderful. Dimitri moaned and gripped his gut with both hands, pressed with both hands. His belly let out a loud gworp in response, at which he practically purred. 

“Sylvain…” he muttered, wanting to thank his friend for these feelings. He was better being digested away, felt so much more pleasurable this way. And Dimitri drank in every moment of it. 

Eventually he closed his eye again, and fell asleep rubbing his gut. Come morning he would awaken to a soft pudge on his stomach and tits that had doubled in size--for while Felix had contributed to both of his curves, Sylvain would make his final stand in preventing Dimitri from wearing his shirt again. There would be nothing to expel, and it let him sleep so much easier knowing that he would wake up with both of his friends added to his body. 

Now he only needed Ingrid, and he would be complete. But until then...Sylvain and Felix would do.


End file.
